Draco finally returned on a Monday in mid-August, looking pale and weary. He walked straight into Hermione and Narcissa's breakfast, kissed his mother's cheek, and sat with a flourish to his napkin as the two women sat stunned.

Narcissa recovered quickly, asking him short, simple questions, to which he would nod or reply with a clipped sentence or two.

But as he stirred the honey into his tea, his eyes drifted up to her, studying her face.

And Hermione felt breathless as her pulse fluttered, realizing just how much she'd missed him.

~*~

She came to his bedroom that afternoon. He opened the door in the middle of her first knock. Hermione stared up at him, overwhelmed at being so close to him again. He was taller than she'd remembered, even leaning against the doorway. Her lips parted to ask what she'd come for, but her mind remained stubbornly blank.

A ghost of a smirk crept over his face. "Come to gape at me, Granger?"

She snapped her mouth shut. "Hardly," she retorted, with a weak roll of her eyes. "I'm all business. I was just coming by to see—"

"I haven't forgotten about Cho, no. You'll see her this Friday. The details have already been arranged."

Hermione blinked at him. "Good. Excellent." She squared her shoulders. "I also wanted to see if—"

"Seven o'clock." He raised a brow at her expression. "I assume you want to practice tonight?"

"I — Yes, I do." He'd already anticipated what she needed from him. The thought made her stomach flip.

"Alright then," he said, pushing off the doorway. "Meet me here a few minutes before."

She nodded and took a step backward. "Thank you," she said softly, her eyes fixed on his collar.

His throat bobbed as he nodded. "Anything else?"

"It's… good to have you back, Draco." She rushed away before he could comment, and before she could say another stupid thing.

That evening, he led her to a smaller sitting room, away from Narcissa's prying eyes. Hermione was still embarrassed from her outburst earlier, so she sat quietly on his lap for the most part, watching while he ate ravenously. The sight of him devouring his potatoes and roast was oddly satisfying, so she didn't push for any questions that might disrupt his appetite.

On Tuesday, she tried kissing his neck again. Besides a quick breath and a pause of his fork, he let her. She also learned why he'd been in Groix. The Order had been rebuilding in France and had constructed an Apparition Line of their own. Draco had been assigned to cut off suppliers trying to pass the Line by water. Nott Sr. had been assigned to break through the Line's defenses, but still hadn't managed it.

On Wednesday, she pulled out of him that there had been rioting in Spain, which the Dark Lord had overtaken rather sloppily in his haste to isolate France. Draco and a dozen others had been dispatched to control the situation.